Chapter 25 #2
“There we are, little snow,” I whispered as I lowered her onto her back. She stretched both arms above her head with a tiny squeak that made me smile before settling again. Asha yawned so widely I laughed under my breath.
“You’ve inherited someone else’s dramatic streak.” I brushed one finger lightly over her silky hair. “Sleep well, sweetheart. We’ll still be here when you wake up.”
She didn’t even open her eyes.
The kitchen already smelled of fresh coffee, and the herbal tea Brec insisted would apparently solve half the problems in the world.
Cassian was standing by the counter with two mugs waiting, and beside them sat a plate of slightly uneven cookies he’d presented with ridiculous pride over breakfast, then looked embarrassed and announced they were practice for when Asha was old enough to make cookies.
The memory was so vivid that my chest tightened all over again. Nobody had ever planned a future with me in it, and my heart simply… melted.
Before I thought better of it, I crossed the kitchen, slipped my arms around Cassian’s neck, and kissed him.
He made the smallest sound of surprise before kissing me back, his hands settling at my waist as though they’d found their favorite place to rest. There wasn’t any hesitation anymore.
Weeks ago, we’d both approached each other cautiously, uncertain where comfort ended, and something far more dangerous began.
Now I knew, with complete certainty, that he wouldn’t push me away, and he knew I wasn’t kissing him because I was frightened or grateful or confusing safety with affection.
I was kissing him because I wanted to.
When we finally drew apart, I smiled to myself and wandered over to the counter. My tea was still steaming, and I stretched my arms high above my head, and I rolled one shoulder before leaning sideways into another stretch Brec had added to my ever-growing routine.
It felt good.
Not perfect, not effortless, but good.
When I straightened again, I caught Cassian watching me.
Heat flickered in his eyes, lingering long after I’d met his gaze, and something low in my stomach tightened in response.
That look had become familiar over the past few days.
It wasn’t just affection anymore, or relief that I was healing, or the protective instinct his wolf had wrapped around me since the night we’d met.
Something had shifted between us as the twenty-eight days drew closer.
We still stole quiet kisses while Asha slept or when we crossed paths in the hallway, but every touch lasted a little longer than it had before.
Every embrace carried an awareness that neither of us seemed interested in pretending away.
My own body had awakened in all kinds of new ways.
I’d stood under the shower that morning with hot water running over my shoulders, thinking about nothing more scandalous than Cassian laughing over burnt cookies, only to realize I was hard.
It had caught me by surprise, and I’d laughed at myself.
Pregnancy, fear, and exhaustion had buried that part of me deep, and I’d wondered if it had disappeared altogether.
Instead, it had simply been waiting, quiet and patient, until my body felt safe enough to remember desire.
More than desire.
There was a warmth growing inside my chest.
I wanted him.
The thought still startled me with its simplicity.
A yawn escaped before I could stop it, leaving my eyes watering. I swayed as my balance shifted, and before I could catch myself, Cassian was already there. One hand settled at my waist while the other steadied my shoulder.
“Easy,” he murmured, smiling.
“I’m fine.”
“You nearly fell over.”
“I yawned.”
“You nearly yawned yourself unconscious.”
I laughed, letting him guide me towards one of the kitchen chairs. “You’re impossible.”
“So, I’ve been told.” His hand lingered for another moment, his thumb brushing my side. “Come and sit down before Brec adds ‘don’t let Soren fall over’ to my growing list of instructions.”
I smiled and let myself be guided, enjoying the easy familiarity that had quietly become part of our everyday lives. Instead of steering me towards the chair beside him, Cassian sat down and, with a questioning glance that gave me every opportunity to pull away, rested his hands on my hips.
“Come here.”
There wasn’t an order in his voice, only an invitation.
I let him draw me onto his lap until I was straddling him. My legs settled either side of his, my hands finding his shoulders as I laughed.
“Comfortable?”
“Very,” I admitted.
His smile reached his eyes, softening the lines grief had carved there over the years.
I could still see his love for Raff sometimes, not because Cassian compared us, but because that kind of connection left its mark on people.
It didn’t diminish what was growing between us. Somehow it made it more precious.
We stayed like that for a long moment. The house was silent apart from the faint ticking of the clock and Asha was sleeping upstairs. The mountain had become our whole world, and in that kitchen it felt as though nothing existed beyond the windows.
I lifted a hand to his face, my fingertips tracing the roughness of his jaw before he leaned into the touch with a sigh that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside him.
“What?” I whispered.
He shook his head. “I’m getting used to this.”
“Me too.”
“I don’t want it to stop.”
My heart tightened.
I bent to kiss him, slowly at first, savoring the familiar warmth of his mouth against mine.
There was no urgency anymore, no fear that one of us would retreat or regret it.
We knew each other now. We knew the pauses, the smiles that interrupted kisses, the laughter when our noses bumped, the way neither of us seemed able to walk away first.
When we finally drew apart, I rested my forehead to his, smiling.
“Three more nights,” I murmured.
“Until you can take your fur.”
I nodded, but instead of excitement, there was a knot of apprehension sitting in my chest. “I’m scared of it.”
Cassian frowned. “When was the last time you shifted?”
I looked down at our hands where they rested together, my fingers absent-mindedly tracing the lines across his knuckles.
“The night I presented. I was fourteen. Eight years.”
The words sounded impossible when spoken aloud.
“I shifted because I couldn’t stop it.” I swallowed.
“My body was changing, my instincts were everywhere, and my father wanted proof. They all did.” I laughed once without humor.
“The family gathered to watch the doctor’s assessment.
I remember thinking it was supposed to feel…
special. Everyone talks about their first shift as something wonderful, something you’ll never forget. ”
“You never forgot it.”
“No.”
I took a slow breath.
“I shifted into my snow leopard, the doctor pronounced me omega and fertile, and everyone was so pleased. My father kept saying how valuable I was, promising my brother every child I could produce.” The words tasted bitter, and Cassian’s jaw tightened.
“That same moment, they started the suppressants.”
I hadn’t spoken about it before.
“The doctors told me they were to help stabilize my hormones after presenting. That it was normal while my body adjusted.” I shook my head.
“I believed them for a while. Then every time my cat tried to come forward, they’d increase the dose.
They said it kept me calm. Said it would make pregnancy easier one day.
” My voice grew quieter. “Eventually… my cat just stopped trying.”
“I’m sorry, Soren.”
“He never disappeared,” I whispered. “He was always there. Curled up somewhere deep inside me. Watching. Waiting. Every now and then I’d feel him through whatever wall the drugs built around us, and I couldn’t reach him.
” My throat tightened. “I spent eight years knowing half of me was alive and trapped.”
Cassian reached up with both hands and cradled my face. “Soren.” I lifted my eyes to his. “They took enough from you.” Such quiet fury filled his voice stole my breath. “They don’t get your daughter as well.” His forehead rested to mine. “Not our sweet Asha.”
My eyes stung.
“They don’t get your future,” he added, and his thumbs brushed away my tears. “They don’t get you.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, leaning into his touch.
“What if I can’t shift?” I whispered. “What if eight years is too long? What if he doesn’t know how anymore?”
Cassian didn’t hesitate. “He knows.”
“How can you be so certain?”
“Because every time I shift, my wolf waits for him.”
A tear escaped despite my best efforts.
“He’s there, Soren.” His voice was gentle. “I’ve seen him. I can feel him. He’s pacing every morning while my wolf patrols. He’s ready.”
I laughed through the tears.
“He’s impatient.”
“He is.”
“And I’m terrified.”
“I know.”
His hands slipped from my cheeks only long enough to take mine before bringing them to his chest, pressing my palms over the steady beat of his heart.
“I want you,” he whispered so quietly that I almost thought I’d imagined it and waited for more. Because of your bloodline. Because I’m alpha and it’s my right.
But he didn’t add any of that, and it made everything inside me go wonderfully, terrifyingly still.
“I want you,” I murmured, and he smiled, then nodded as if we’d come to an agreement.